The resounding uproar of enthusiasm from the "Plus Ultra!!" had left Makoto Takamoto more confident than ever. He, of course, once hearing the rest of the crowd yell with Present Mic, had joined in himself. Lost in the excitement of the moment, it took him a couple of seconds to realise that he was being directed towards his assigned battle zone by the monotone voice of a robot. Glancing around, he noticed that many of the students had already departed and he seemed to imagine the repeating command of the robot increasing in urgency and irritation. Makoto flinched before shifting himself out of his comfortable position. He hurriedly grabbed his mask and fumbled with the clip before tossing it behind his shoulders. Okay then, this is it. Battle zone 2, here I come. He calmed his racing mind, and followed the jumbled assembly of teens and automatons to the practical exam.
Makoto's eyes widened. Before him stood the daunting gates to an uncannily lifelike amalgamation of a city: tall high-rise apartments and shopping malls stretching over the surrounding perimeter wall; cars and other vehicles scattered across the streets; trees, lampposts, post-boxes and most of the other urban paraphernalia you would expect to find in a normal city. "Wow-" Makoto couldn't help exclaiming as he stared through the open doors. They built all of this for us? This is going to be great... but challenging. I wonder how far it stretches... Are the buildings furbished? Where would be the best place to go...
"Go!!!"
The blaring red light and the sudden exclamation from a robot interrupted his train of thought. He could feel the tension in the air being broken all at once under a cascade of waves. And like a cascade of waves, swathes of students began pouring into the urban arena. One particularly bulky or excitable attendee barged their way past Takamoto, causing him to yelp, "Rude!" He refrained from continuing, as the realisation came to him that this was it. He needed to find some robots. He needed to get some points. And he needed to do it fast.
Makoto Takamoto scrambled past the dotted examinees who were already engaged in combat with robots of varying sizes. Making his way past what appeared to be a recreation of a shopping mall, he caught sight of congregation of robots situated in a reasonably isolated area at the end of the street. Perfect. Makoto recognised the opportunity and began making his way there. Jogging through the street, he pulled out the two metals balls which he had displayed earlier. Makoto thought back his preparations during the morning: he had chosen to take these balls as they were versatile, light tools that he could influence without struggle for long periods of time. If he used Magnetism too freely it would likely wear him out. Best to only use it on the small ferromagnetic objects to conserver energy.
With weapons (of sorts) in hand, Makoto continued his approach along the street. Distant sounds — some potentially human and some distinctly not — reverberated and echoed through the alleys. Then it came. A noise that was shockingly loud and evidently close. It shook Makoto's body with its destructive potency, and drew his instant attention towards its source. From amidst a cloud of smoke, Makoto could make out someone seemed to be in fierce combat with a large, armoured contraption — a 3-pointer, he assumed. It had just torn a massive hole in the structure of a nearby tower; the target had narrowly avoided its rapid strike. As the dust cleared, Makoto could see the target — a boy of strong, tall stature and red hair — standing poised as if preparing for a finishing attack on the robot. Makoto was just about to continue towards his intended targets before he noticed something the boy hadn't: the tower was collapsing. Jolting to a halt, Makoto saw the boy approach the robot, clearly unbeknownst to the fact that the adjacent tower was beginning to topple in his direction. "Oh lordy," Takamoto stammered, "Quick, get back from there!" The boy either didn't hear his words or chose not to heed them. C'mon Makoto. You have to do something. Anything!
Instinctively, he felt for something easy to grasp hold of — metal. There! Stretching across the boy's waist was a belt with a metal buckle. Takamoto stretched his influence towards the buckle and flexed his fingers. He was still a distance from the boy, but focused his attention towards the singular point of the buckle. Unfortunately, the robot had begun its advance upon the boy and would likely be able to catch him even if Takamoto was able to pull him away. Furrowing his eyebrows in concentration, he outstretched his arm and performed the simultaneous action of repelling the robot enough to destabilise it, and pulling the buckle of the boy to move him out of range of the impact.
Crash!
With tremendous force, the foundations of the tower gave way to the inevitable force of gravity. It crashed down upon the street below it, completely crushing the 3-pointer who had been forced under by Makoto's efforts. Makoto sighed, "Thank goodness. Oh my, that was difficult. I can't believe I was able to push that thing back. It wasn't even ferromagnetic and was approaching at such a speed. Still, it was metal, so a little more familiar. On the bright side it means I'm improving..." After gasping in a few breaths of air, Makoto ran over to the boy, hoping he hadn't been hit by debris from the collapse. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry I couldn't have made your landing smoother." The boy sprung up to his feet, seemingly unharmed, and muttered a few words of appreciation towards Makoto before running off.
Guess he didn't have much to say. Makoto thought to himself following the brisk departure of the boy he had just rescued. Then again, he has the right idea. We're all on a time limit and we all need points. I've got to make my way back to those robots I saw before to make up for lost time. After a minute or so of sending metallic balls flying violently into the heads, arm sockets and cores of several 1-pointers, 2-pointers, and struggling with a few 3-pointers, Takamoto had accumulated around 19 points. To finish the final 3-pointers, Makoto was forced to resort to another method: sending multiple large, reasonably thick sheets of metal (found in the debris, but presumably part of a structure) flying into them, encasing them and pinning them to the wall. Convenient I found these pieces of metal. Magnetism is strong, but it's situational and hard to useeee- Makoto Takamoto turned around to be greeted by the powerful fist of a 3-pointer. Lulled into a false sense of security by his recent victories, it was able to send him flying a couple of meters back, catching him completely unaware.
Takamoto landed on his front, locks of cinnamon hair falling before his face, his hands absorbing a portion of the fall. His helmet, which had been badly attached in the rush to leave the auditorium, flew across the street and landed in a corner beneath a windowsill. Then the coughing came.
[EDIT: Apologies as it's a little messy.]
